


Strange Amalgam

by dramamelon



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Self-loathing Jealousy, So Much Smug, one-sided Cyclonus/Galvatron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramamelon/pseuds/dramamelon
Summary: Against all the accepted ways of Cybertron, CyclonuswantsGalvatron... who already belongs to Nova Prime.





	Strange Amalgam

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, another prompt-fill from tumblr. :D
> 
> _May I request "Do you ever think we should stop this"? Nova Prime/Galvatron and (one-sided on Cyclonus' end)Cyclonus/Galvatron please?_
> 
> This is set on board the original Ark before they cross into the Dead Universe.

They were at it again, standing far too close to one another and touching in unnecessary ways. Perhaps the worst of it was that they did so in open view of the entire crew. Cyclonus clenched his jaw, denta grinding, though he quickly forced the telling action away before it could be noticed by anyone else. Pulling the tension from his field proved a bit more difficult, but not impossible for him—his spiritual training over the span of vorns taught him many skills not held by the average Cybertronian. He’d give them up if it gave him a moment alone with Galvatron, though.

His commander, his friend, the one his spark burned for.

It was not the way of Cybertronians to hold such emotions. Or so Cyclonus reminded himself every his internals clenched at the closeness expressed between the Prime and Galvatron. It was unseemly enough that their mingling existed, making his own jealous pining all the more horrific.

How he wished it would stop, the tearing in his chest, as Nova’s fingers brushed a barely there touch across the breadth of Galvatron’s back. It was obscene and entirely unfair in one terrible collision of bad ideas and unwanted emotions. The moment he watched, from the corner of his optics, Galvatron lean into Nova’s touch, Cyclonus’ internals roiled with nausea.

He turned from his place looking over one of the Ark’s scientific consoles—one he barely understood the workings of—and turned to face his superiors. Standing tall and straight, he noted they already graced him with their attention. While Galvatron appeared only curious, the Prime eyed him with something much closer to suspicion.

“Something perturbs you, Cyclonus?” Nova asked, looming possessively over Galvatron. Or perhaps not. At this point, Cyclonus couldn't be certain of his objectivity. 

Rather than give in to the grating desire to reprimand Nova in a blasphemous rush of damning words that would serve more to give himself away than lay low his target, Cyclonus gave a stiff reply. “I am afraid I find myself in need of recharge—” a lie, but better than the truth, “—and would request leave to do so.”

Not only a lie, but also the worst attempt to save face ever, he thought after the words were spoken. Judging by the smirk that twisted across Nova’s mouth, the Prime thought the same.

“Of course,” Galvatron said before whatever comment was rising on Nova’s glossa could spill forth. “We must all be at our best should unfortunate circumstances befall us on our journey. Go and get some rest, Cyclonus.”

“Thank you, Galvatron,” he replied, keeping his gaze locked on the mech. He could feel the rising irritation in Nova's field, but refrained from reacting. Pausing like a fool in one of those taboo romance novels, Cyclonus crossed optics with Nova despite his best efforts to do otherwise. What he saw in those blue depths could not in any reality be deemed friendly. Cyclonus narrowed his own optics in a moment of defiance, then continued off the bridge to seek the privacy of his hab. He field lashed out of control the moment the door was closed behind him, pouring forth some strange amalgam of violence and hate and longing—this was _not_ who he was. Cyclonus wrapped those unnecessary and damaging emotions as tight as he could and shoved the coil deep into the recesses of his spark where they could not escape. He would not be beholden to such meddlesome things.

He’d never been so utterly beyond himself. His serenity needed to be reattained. He would purge himself of this malfunction, overwrite the coding that had glitched, and return to duty with his mind and spark free of disturbance. Even under his tightest control, though, wisping filaments of his field trailed after him as he stalked the halls toward his hab.

* * *

Drawn from the bridge and hidden away in an isolated storage room, Galvatron found himself with his back pressed against the wall. His front was warm with the touch of Nova’s plating against his own. The Prime buried his face against Galvatron’s neck cabling, lips brushing softly as sharp denta nipped. “Do you believe me now?” came Nova’s muffled voice. “Cyclonus desires you and you can’t say you don’t see it, anymore.”

“Lust is not love, my Prime,” Galvatron replied, hands stroking over the smooth white armor on Nova’s arms. “I think you mistake him.”

Fingers gripped hard enough to dent at Galvatron’s hips and Nova pulled away from his neck to meet his optics with a firm look. “I don’t mistake, Galvatron,” he said in a rumble that might have caused fear in a lesser mech. “Cyclonus would seek to take my place were I of a mind to give it up.”

Galvatron stilled as the notion passed through his processor. What they had between them, it stood so very outside the accepted practices of the Cybertronian peoples. It was not unheard of, of course, but frowned upon by the majority. A waver of distaste rippled through his spark, a brief revulsion at himself and the Prime that stood with him. The thought of no longer having it, though, struck an unbearable pain through his chassis. Shifting his hands upward, Galvatron cupped his palms around the shape of Nova’s face, thumbs sweeping a gentle motion across his cheeks. “Do you ever think we should stop this?”

The hardness that had taken Nova’s face softened as a smile quirked at one corner of his mouth. “Did you not hear my words just now? I said were I of a mind… and I am most decidedly not.”


End file.
